


Hoodie

by FoxSake



Category: Andrew Hozier-Byrne (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21623359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxSake/pseuds/FoxSake
Summary: Don't lose your goddamn hoodie, man.
Relationships: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Alex Ryan (Hozier)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	Hoodie

He couldn't remember taking it off. 

Last night (this morning?) Alex followed an unspoken rule: leave before you can't. His hotel room was nearly black when he walked in, edges kissed with the faint glow of dawn leaking through a seam in the curtains. At a glance, the room was a mirror image of Andrew's. At first disorienting, reality settled in as soon as Alex's eyes adjusted to the dark. No, it wasn't like Andrew's room at all. Tender from exhaustion, he moved to the bed, sheets untouched save for an indent where he sat earlier. He slipped off his untied shoes and free-fell onto the mattress. 

Come to think of it, he couldn't remember falling asleep, either.

He slept through his initial alarm hours later, waking with a start as it went off again after the automatic snooze.

"Ah, fuck all," he exhaled, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. A deep breath pulled in a scent not his own, freezing him with the memory of skin and sweat and heat.

"Ah, _fuck_."

Looking down, he noticed he was still wearing yesterday's clothes. His black shirt, inside out and creased. Grey jeans, unzipped but buttoned, a questionable stain on his thigh (not questionable at all, he knew _exactly_ what it was). He was impressed, however, that he managed to keep both socks on. 

Getting out of bed served to remind him of last night's indiscretions with stiff joints and achy muscles, knees cracking especially loud. Or maybe he was just getting old. He grinned as he walked by a mirror, painfully aware of how boyish he looked. 

His shower was brief but incredibly thorough, scrubbing every nook and crevice with a bit of neuroticism. _Andy doesn't want anyone to know about this, and all I smell is Andy._ Brushing his teeth was no different. _All I taste is-_ he stopped his thought. Too much for the morning. _We don't think about that now._

Packing was easy enough, throwing his soiled laundry in a plastic bag and chucking that in his luggage. Today was all travel, and comfort was to be optimal. Jeans, loose fitting T-shirt, and his black hoodie were the staples, the ritual of it almost superstitious. It's why the steady unease set in when he couldn't find his hoodie.

Alex went for the obvious places - obvious to _him_ , anyway. It wasn't on the floor or hanging off the armchair. Not tangled in the sheets or under the bed. The closet felt too obvious and he was vaguely relieved it wasn't there, saving face to no one but himself. Alex glanced at his phone. "Fffuuuck offf," he was already ten minutes late. Pausing, a thought brought his eyes back to the now zippered luggage. "I'm an idiot," he hummed with relief as he unzipped the luggage enough to pull out the plastic bag.

He stopped again at the scent that wafted out of it. Andrew, he couldn't shake the scent of him. _Do I smell like him now?_ he thought in a mild panic, taking the collar of his clean shirt to his nose and sniffing. It was like the first time he tried a pot biscuit; long after that initial high, he _knew_ it was seeping out of his pores, musty and oh so specific. No, this wasn’t like that at all. He smelled of clean laundry hung out to dry in recycled air. _Idiot, ingesting doesn't -_ he stopped his thoughts again, "Fucking focus or fuck it, man!"

Alex resigned to defeat. He wasn't quite sure why he spent so much time on this one (lost hoodie number 3 for this year alone) but couldn't shake the uneasiness, the loss. He concluded it was simply because he remembered it before he left. Other times he'd be halfway to the next stop before it dawned on him. The reasoning still didn't quite settle with him. 

* * *

This one he got during the American leg, after hoodie number 2 was left in the green room on an especially warm night. Dashing into the bus became an art form, a flash before anyone could manage to notice him. It was still strange watching Andrew through the tinted windows interact with hundreds of different people, all shapes and sizes and energies and remain kind and giving. _This lad gives too much,_ Alex would think, partially in awe and partially annoyed with his friend. He's seen what the burnout looks like.

The bus was a comfortable temperature, idle and waiting. As soon as it hit the road, however, it became an ice box. And that's when Alex gave a silent farewell to hoodie number 2, sitting on the couch with headphones plugged in to his Switch. His legs were pulled in close for some semblance of warmth. It startled him when something was draped over his shoulders, causing him to run off of Rainbow Road (there goes first place). He looked up to Andrew, light catching on his glasses and glinting the teeth in his grin. "You forgot again," Andrew said, finding a spot next to Alex.

"Yep," Alex said, removing his headphones.

"Hotel?"

"Green room. Where'd you get this? It's new."

Andrew pulled up his socked feet and sat cross-legged on the couch, brushing a stray hair from his face. "Asked someone to pick one up first day. Just in case," he said, shrugging and gently shoving Alex's shoulder, "You're a bit careless, man, I was hoping to see if I could keep this long enough to give you for Christmas."

Alex laughed and shook his head, " Well gee thanks, man, you're a true lad." 

Andrew chuckled, "Well, put it on then, and stop looking so fucking miserable."

Alex obliged and zipped it up, putting the hood on. It seemed similar enough to the others but somehow it felt _better_ , softer, warmer. He attributed it to the relief from the cold, enhancing the experience. Andrew stood up and patted Alex's hooded head. "Right, goodnight then."

"Goodnight, and thanks, really."

"Don't lose that one, right?" Andrew called back as he walked to the bunks.

"Don't keep your hopes up!" Alex called back.

Sighing deeply, he noticed a familiar smell under the newness, but figured it was just the bus air.

* * *

Alex pulled his luggage behind him, reaching for the hotel room door when he heard a knock on the other side. Opening it, he faced Andrew standing there, hand up for another knock _wearing my goddamn hoodie._

"What's the hold up here, man? We've got a bloody tour to get on, unbelievable!" Andrew said with his best/worst impression of Alex. The hood was on Andrews head, drawstrings pulled a little too tight and the arms might have been slightly too short for him. Alex's expression was unmoved.

Alex placed his hands on Andrew's shoulders and looked him dead in the eye.

"You sir, are a fucker."

The memory of lips and skin and heated breath flashed in his head and he could feel his expression break, lips twitch with an invisible force threatening to pull him forward. It vanished just as quickly as it came and he hid it with a smirk, "now give me my fucking hoodie."

Andrew laughed and obeyed, "Alright, you can cool it now." Alex slipped it on as they walked down the hall, Andrew doing him the favor of pulling both their bags. "You've gone and stretched the arms and it's all-" Alex feigned annoyance and fussed at the hoodie until it reformed to his shape. "I told you not to lose it, didn't I?" Andrew hummed. Alex pulled his hood on dramatically in response.

As they reached the elevator, Alex turned his head towards the inside of the hood and discreetly drew in a breath. _Fucker._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I don't generally write these things, but here we are lads.


End file.
